Chapter 2
Ophelia
The moment I pushed open the classroom door the next morning, the entire world turned blood red.
On my desk, crimson paint dripped like blood, spelling out jagged words: FREAK and KILL YOURSELF.
"Oh my God..." I gasped, my backpack slipping from my hands.
Morning sunlight streamed through the windows, hitting those letters and making them glow an eye-searing, suffocating red. Every student in the classroom was chatting casually, as if nothing had happened.
"Who... who did this?" My voice was shaking.
No one answered. No one even glanced my way.
Mr. Peterson walked into the classroom, glanced at my desk, and frowned. "Ophelia, please handle your personal issues and don't disrupt class."
"But Mr. Peterson, someone wrote on my desk..."
"That's a personal matter you'll need to deal with yourself." The words came out clipped and brittle.
With trembling hands, I pulled wet wipes from my bag and started scrubbing at the red letters. The paint wasn't completely dry yet, smearing sticky and thick on my fingers like real blood.
Just then, Seraphina glided past me with elegant steps. She leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Red really suits you, Ophelia." Her voice was sickeningly sweet. "Just like blood."
My hand trembled, and the wet wipe fell to the floor.
Two hours later, the bell rang for PE. The girls' locker room buzzed with chatter as I quietly made my way to a corner to change into my gym clothes.
"God, look at how malnourished she is." Seraphina stood in front of me, her voice loud enough for every girl in the locker room to hear. "Really pathetic, isn't it?"
I was in the middle of changing when I heard this, and I froze.
"You can literally count her ribs," another girl chimed in.
"Maybe she doesn't even get enough to eat at home?"
"Well, she is a charity case."
Laughter echoed through the locker room, each laugh feeling like needles pricking my skin.
I quickly pulled on my gym clothes, desperate to escape this hell.
But a bigger disaster was waiting for me.
After PE, I hurried to AP History class. Felix was chatting with his friends, and when they saw me walk in, they started egging him on:
"Felix, go bump into her!"
"Yeah, make it look like an 'accident'!"
"She's so skinny, one little push and she'll go down!"
A flicker of hesitation crossed Felix's eyes, but under his friends' encouragement, he stood up.
I was focused on walking to my seat, completely unaware of his approach.
"WHAM!"
Felix's shoulder slammed hard into mine. The impact sent me flying sideways, completely off balance.
My head crashed into the sharp corner of a desk.
Searing pain shot through my skull, and something warm trickled down my temple. I touched it—my hand came away covered in blood.
"Oops, sorry." Felix looked at the blood on my head, panic flashing in his eyes before he quickly masked it. "Didn't see you there."
The classroom fell dead silent. Everyone was staring at me, but not a single person stepped forward to help.
I pressed my shaking hand against the wound, blood seeping through my fingers. Felix turned and walked away like nothing had happened.
I sat alone on the floor, watching drops of blood hit the tiles, feeling like the whole world was spinning.
The lunch bell had just rung when I walked toward the school courtyard, trying to find a quiet corner to tend to my head wound. Just as I sat down, I heard a familiar voice.
"Mommy, I miss you..."
I looked up to see Amy—my only friend—standing in the center of the courtyard, making exaggerated crying motions, mimicking me.
"Look at me! I'm orphan Ophelia!" She clutched a book, pretending it was a photograph. "Mommy, I miss you so much!"
The crowd of onlookers erupted in thunderous laughter.
"Oh my God, Amy, you're spot-on!"
"That's exactly how she does it! Always hugging that picture of her mom and crying!"
"Let's play the 'orphan Ophelia' game!"
Suddenly, a dozen students started mimicking me, clutching random objects and fake-crying:
"Mommy, why did you leave me!"
"I'm so lonely!"
"Nobody loves me!"
Each imitation felt like a knife twisting in my heart. Amy was my last friend, my only support, and now even she...
I covered my face and ran as fast as I could, bursting into the nearest bathroom.
I pushed through the bathroom door and rushed to the mirror, wanting to splash water on my face and calm down.
But taped to the mirror was a piece of paper—my mother's obituary.
Someone had written on it in red ink: [Daughter should join her.]
My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the cold tile floor.
Tears streamed down my face as I hugged myself, sobbing silently in the empty bathroom.
Night fell, and candlelight flickered in the Blackwood mansion's dining room. Diana elegantly cut her steak without even glancing at me:
"Starting today, your allowance is cut off."
"What?" I looked up, unable to believe my ears.
"You heard me." Her tone was as casual as discussing the weather. "Consider it a lesson. Maybe without spending money, you'll learn to appreciate what you have."
"But I need to buy lunch, I need to..."
"Seraphina will take care of your basic needs." Diana finally looked at me, her gaze cold as ice. "As long as you behave."
Seraphina smiled sweetly. "Ophelia, I'll 'take care' of you."
I knew exactly what her version of "taking care" meant.
No money meant I couldn't even buy lunch at school anymore. It meant I'd be completely dependent on this family that saw me as their enemy.
It meant I truly had nowhere left to turn.
An hour later, I returned to the now-empty school on an empty stomach to collect my backpack. The hallways were silent except for the echo of my footsteps.
Just as I was about to leave, I saw Felix standing by the stairwell, as if waiting for someone.
When he saw me, complex emotions flashed in his eyes. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but in the end, he said nothing and walked away.
I stood alone in the empty hallway and pulled my mother's photograph from my pocket.
"I'm sorry, Mom." My voice sounded especially desolate in the empty space. "I really can't hold on anymore."
I remembered my mother's dying words: "Be strong and keep living."
But now, I had no strength left to be strong.
I slowly walked toward the stairs leading to the roof, each step feeling as heavy as walking on clouds.
Death threats, physical violence, betrayal by friends, financial cutoff... everything was pushing me toward that final destination.
I stood at the last step before the rooftop door, my phone buzzing constantly in my pocket.
But I no longer cared who was trying to reach me.
Wind blew through the open rooftop door, carrying the night's chill.
I closed my eyes and took a step forward.